The Promise
by AgeofLoneliness
Summary: Lyn lives life with making enough money to pay the rent and live a simple life . Then came a choice, to cease to exist by allowing her ancestor Merlin to perish or travel back to the time of Camelot where magic is outlawed and death is punishment. Choosing the latter, Lyn is in for the ride of a lifetime filled with danger, friendship, and adventure. Merthur with bits of OC
1. Chapter 1

The Promise

**Been watching Merlin recently, catching up and trying to finish, and I thought this would be fun to do. First shot at a Merlin fic. Hope you enjoy~ I OWN NOTHING.**

~One

Finishing up a number, the group of beautiful sexy dancers posed enticingly, leaving the crowd of men atop cloud nine cheering for more. The night seemed well so far, the rendition of Chicago having been a good selection of tonight's entertainment leaving the atmosphere fun and flirty.

The promising erotic music continued lowering to a mere whisper as the dancers cleared the stage. The lights dimmed and soon the club grew dark. On the floor, waitresses moved about delivering drinks and taking orders.

Sudden spotlights shined down on center stage and like a moth to a flame all eyes were drawn. The next act, the best of the house as some would say was starting. A drum roll began as a deep voice spoke through the speakers, "And now ladies and gentlemen, the keeper of the keys, the countess of the clink, the mistress of murderous row, Matron Mama Morden."

Once the voice diminished a raunchy yet sultry jazz tune blew up and filled the room, serving as a cue. From behind the large red curtain a woman stepped out. Her name was Lyn and she was the beautiful, ethereal star. With skin as pale as the moonlight, fair pink lips, and long flowing ebony hair. The top and skirt of her provocative outfit outlined and hugged her breasts and derriere, parading the perkiness of her glistening body. Her sculpted curvaceous midriff was exposed leaving nothing to the imagination.

She took to the stage, posing with her hip propped out and smiled at the crowd as she began her song with a strong high even octave melodic yet dark voice. "Ask any of the chickies in my pen…" She paused for effect. "They'll tell you I'm the biggest mother hen…"

She gave a smirk as she strut around the stage. "I love 'em all and all of them love me, because the system works, the system called reciprocity…" The jazzy tune then picked up; the beats of the drums and notes of the trumpets thick and full all around with sass in each beat and note. It was all so compelling she simply couldn't resist.

Lyn popped her hips side to side in quite the sexy manner in time with each beat, earning wild cheers and whistles. "Got a little motto" she sang as she dipped down and bent forward, giving the crowd of drinking and drunken men a perfect view of her cleavage, "Always sees me through…" She walked down the steps of the stage, swinging her hips with each step. "When you're good to mama, mama's good to you."

Reaching the crowd, she stopped before a man and popped her hip toward him, earning a wolf whistle. "There's a lot of favors I'm prepared to do…" She smiled, blue orbs twinkling as the man slipped a few bills into the waistline of her skirt, his fingers lingering on her until she removed them. Winking, she moved on, "You do one for mama; she'll do one for you."

Reaching another man, he placed his hands on her hips. Forcing back the instinct to stiffen and slap him straight across the face, she played her role and shook her hips a bit, continuing on afterwards. It always was good to keep men on their toes and wanting more, one achieved more tips that way.

"They say that life is tit for tat, and that's the way I live. So I deserve a lot of tat for what I've got to give." The music smoothed as she ran her hands down her body slowly, stopping abruptly as she felt a jolt of electricity within her and suddenly found herself in the woods.

Immediately she straightened out. No… Trees, brush, and shrub surrounded her as the call of the wilderness filled her ears. The cool clammy wind brushed and nipped upon her skin, goose bumps rising. Dread filled her… no… not here. Not again.

She turned at a rustle, watching a man appear in a hurry from behind a bush, panting heavily. Clad in loose fitting worn clothes, he was lanky with pale moonlight skin, fair pink lips, and a full head of dark ebony hair. She gasped softly. It couldn't be… He stopped as he saw her, eyes widening in surprise as he gasped. Blue orbs clashed with blue orbs. Tension rose in the air. How…?

"Merlin!" a voice shouted suddenly. The man turned back instinctively.

Taking the opportunity, Lyn shut her eyes, willing herself to return to the club. In a matter of seconds, the pounding of drums and pulsating rhythms of the music from the live band filled her ears and sent a wave of relief through her. She opened her eyes, rejoicing in her success of returning.

She looked about, everything seemed normal. It didn't appear anyone had noticed her short episode, perfect, excellent. Forcing a smile, her song continued in her sultry voice as she took to strutting through the crowd still. "When you're good to mama, mama's good to you."

Her mind slipped back. She had been there once or twice before, each time against her will of her power, but she had never once seen _him _before nor him her. Who was he? Was it a trick of magic he looked exactly like her? It had been almost like looking into a mirror.

Lyn was suddenly brought from her questioning thoughts as she was pulled into a man's lap, him laughing in a drunken manner. Wanting to bash his face in but knowing she couldn't it, she merely forced a smile and continued her job, it was what she was paid for after all.

"If you want my gravy, pepper my ragout…" She leaned in close, her lips inches from his, and forced herself to keep a straight face. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes and it took all she had to keep the vomit down. "Spice it up for mama; she'll get hot for you." Quickly she stood up and moved on. "When they pass that basket, folk contribute to, you put in for mama, she'll put out for you…"

"Merlin!"

Having heard it clear as day she stopped her song and dance, the crowd and band growing confused. Lyn stared ahead at open space, feeling suddenly for a second time the same familiar jolt. Oh, not again. Unable to do anything, she closed her eyes, it always made the experience easier, only to open them a second later to find she once again in the woods only this time she was not alone.

A struggle occurred between several men, the clanging of metal on metal resounding in her ears. It was clear she was a bearing witness to a sword fight.

"Arthur!"

Following the sudden voice, she caught sight of the ebony haired man who struggled with his opponent. He grunted as he was struck in the face with an iron fist and fell back to the floor. He shook his head, dazed, a bruise forming around his right eye. His opponent raised his sword up over his head, ready to strike.

It was then, in the mere seconds, a knight in shining armor stepped into the scene, running his sword through the faceless man and killing him. The large body dropped to the ground with a thud, leaves crunching under it. The fight was over, leaving both surviving men panting.

"Are you alright Merlin?" the knight spoke as he knelt down before the fallen man. He reached and cupped his chin. "Let me see." The ebony haired man looked past him and right at her. "What are you looking at?" the knight questioned, turning back.

Lyn gasped in awe. He was breathtaking; tall, burly with firm rounded shoulders and sculpted chest no doubt. His bouncy luscious blond locks completed well with his fair skin and the most stumbling blue eyes she had ever seen.

Focusing past his looks, it didn't seem as if he could see her. Did that mean only the one called Merlin could? Looking away from the knight completely, her gaze met once again with the ebony haired man. His stare was intent and full of questions. He wasn't the only one; she had a few of her own. How could he see her? And yet, the knight couldn't?

"Merlin, seriously. Stop staring at open space. It's nerve wrecking. You're beginning to look like a loon."

The man called Merlin looked away from her, "Sorry sire."

Lyn quickly shut her eyes, feeling the familiar electric jolt, and finding herself in the club once more upon opening them. The atmosphere had changed as the silence was deafening. She stood on the floor with the spotlight on her. Around her was nothing but dumbfounded questioning stares. One could guess what they all were thinking, what the hell just happened?

Filled with uneasiness and embarrassment, Lyn rushed off making her way to her dressing room. Upon entering, she slammed the door shut behind her and locked it. And now that she was in her own privacy, she let out an aggravated cry pacing the floor as she took deep breaths. Damn it! Damn it, why? Why now? Why tonight, the night of her performance? Why _during _her performance?

She punched the nearest wall. Damn it! She was fired, she knew. No doubt about it, she was fired. She shook her head in anger, forcing back tears. All of her hard work put into this job, gone, just gone. All of the endurance that came with being an exotic dancer, men constantly grabbing at her, singing and dancing in front of a crowd hardly wearing any clothes, it seemed it had all been for nothing now. And it was all because of her stupid magic!

Still, she couldn't understand, why had she lost control of her power of astral projection? It was almost as if she had been summoned via astral projection. She stopped at a knock on her door which was followed by a small voice. "Lyn… are you okay? What happened out there?"

She said nothing, paying no mind to the voice behind the door and more to the trickle of power coming at her in waves. The sheer power, it possessed a kind of… warm inviting grace. Her eyes widened slightly as the raw power formed a voice inside her mind. "Merlyn…" the voice was raspy, almost sounding ancient yet wise. It called again, "Merlyn…"

Following the voice, she came to stand before her dresser mirror, looking into it with shock. The mirror… it was as if it had become water. It rippled as it manifested into what she realized was the golden dragon she had seen once before.

She took a cautious step back as the creature solidified and set its golden gaze upon her. "Ah" it spoke with content in its voice, "It is good to see you again young witch." Not this again. Lyn gave a deep sigh, teeth gritting. "You… I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Ignoring her words, the dragon spoke again. "Albion awaits you." She shook her head. "I don't care." Her hands shot to her sides in anger, "I don't care!" The top corner of the mirror cracked. Lyn crossed her arms over her chest, taking deep breaths.

"Calm yourself young one" the dragon said, waiting as she did so. "You know why I have appeared. It cannot be denied much longer young witch. You must take heed."

Now calm, she gave a derisive chuckle as she placed on her tough exterior, rolling her eyes and adding sass. "Right, right… the destiny to aid my ancestor in his quest of uniting Albion, blah blah blah." She shook her head, sighing. "Look, you've told me this before, and just like last time, my answer hasn't changed, I don't care-"

"Young one, you would do best to hold your tongue" the dragon interjected. "I know what you are and what you are not." His gaze grew stern. "You are not just an exotic dancer, as you so roughly put it yourself; you are much more than that."

"And what's that?" she challenged.

"You are a creature of old magic. A descendant of the great wizard-"

"Look, I know you're lying and I've grown tired of this" she interrupted. More cracks appeared upon the mirror. Her attitude was worsening. "What's it going to take to get you to understand, I am no one and I do not have magical ancestors." The room shook and groaned, stopping only seconds after.

Laughter rumbled from the dragon's throat. "You have quite powerful magic. There is no doubt; you have Emry's blood in your veins."

She sighed having failed to intimidate the creature. Instead she took to pursing her lips, as she thought over the creature's words. The dragon would simply keep bothering her, so why not? Magic… ancestor…

Descended from magic? Wasn't it a tad bit cliché? Albeit it would definitely explain her powers and why she had been born with them. This all just seemed so ludicrous, and to believe him, would she seem crazy to do so?

She looked to the dragon that had remained silent as he waited. "None of this was a coincidence, was it; my spontaneous magical outburst? That this Merlin and I have the same name? Look exactly alike?"

The creature shook its head. "No, I'm afraid it is far more than that. It is fate. Merlyn, you and he are one and the same. Your magic is connected, intertwined. It is how Merlin unknowingly summoned you." She gave another eye roll as she sighed, "This Merlin, Merlyn thing is going to get so annoying, I can already tell." She placed her hands on her hips. "So what exactly do you want from me?"

The dragon's stern gaze softened as he came to the conclusion that she had finally accepted. "Quite simply put, Merlyn, you must protect your predecessor and aid him in his quest. Fail and you will cease to exist."

She nodded, understanding, "Alright. Keep him alive, got it. But what's his quest?"

"I shall leave that for you to find out."

Another sigh, "Figures… So how do we do this? How do I travel to the past? I don't think my magic alone is powerful enough."

The image of the dragon manifested back into water, leaving only his voice to remain. "The mirror." His voice echoed, "It is a portal I have opened. Simply step up. Magic shall do the rest."

Merlyn nodded once again and did as told, stepping slowly with her hand reached out. Her hand easily passed through the water like surface. "I just know I'm going to regret this" she said, gasping soon after as the mirror literally sucked her in. And then she was gone.

**Feedback? Shall I give it another shot?**


	2. Chapter 2

The Promise

**Here's the next installment, hoping this does better than the first chapter. I'd like to thank those who took the time to read this and leave feedback, I appreciate it greatly. Please continue to do so and enjoy this new chapter.**

~Two

Head rising from the water, Lyn drew in a deep breath coughing from the sudden rush of air. Her head pounded fiercely, hammering. The rapid thrum of her heartbeat echoed in her ears and after moments of allowing the pain to pass, she recollected and gave a joyous cheer, splashing water in the process.

She survived! She'd made it through and was still alive! It was only moments ago where it seemed she would have drowned; having been trapped in a maelstrom with the pressure of water on and all around her. But now she was out and alive; with little to no thanks toward the dragon. A warning from the brute on the method of travel would have been greatly appreciated. Had she known she would be swimming through an endless powerful whirlpool of water; at least she would been better prepared. One thing was certain; the next time that overgrown lizard showed its face he would surely get a piece of her mind.

At least she had arrived. Question was where had she arrived to? Looking around she saw nothing but wooded area, miles and miles of it. Why a forest? Swimming to shore, her body dripped wet as Lyn stepped on land, foliage crunching underfoot. She shivered from the sudden chill and wrapped her arms around herself, giving a low growl of frustration.

Why couldn't the damned beast have waited until her shift had ended? At least then she'd have been wearing decent clothes. Speaking of such, the witch tugged at the wet clothing, pulling on the shrunken leather with much difficulty after which she managed to pull down the bandeau top, covering what little she could of her breasts. With another hard tug she slicked the short skirt down over the garter belt.

She shook her head, disappointed. Perhaps it was for the best her clothes were ruined. People would think her a harlot dressed in this manner anyhow. Sighing, Lyn turned back toward the water and glanced out to the horizon, breath hitching at a sight believed to only exist in a dream.

Surrounded by a circle of trees was the lake she had emerged from, still and calm. Her heart warmed at the sight of the gleaming sun reflecting its rays off of the water in sparkling twinkles. A burst of wind sent a flock of butterflies dancing in the air. Lyn smiled at the wondrous sight; a feeling of peace, serenity, one long forgotten, waving through her.

The call of the wilderness only added to the beauty. It was all so surreal, yet to take it in physically, feeling and touching it, there were no words. New York may have its areas and moments of beauty such as this, but it couldn't compare. This here was so much more. The air was fresh, clean. There was no garbage, no tires, nothing. Her predecessor was lucky, fortunate, to be a part of and witness such beauty. Merlin! The moment of peace was gone abruptly as she remembered who and what she was here for.

No longer lost Lyn turned away from the lake and treaded into the forest, more foliage crunching underneath her knee high stiletto boots. How was she to find Merlin? Old family legends spoke of him residing in a placed called Camelot, somewhere in what was now Great Britain albeit she'd never been. Her grandmother had told stories in Camelot being a shining city where equality and justice towered over all. She had even described it as a utopia. As dandy it all sounded, the question now was where was Camelot? And how was she to get there? For miles there was nothing but dense forest.

A sudden sense of animosity overcame and settled in the pit of Lyn's stomach. It was something dark, something fierce and detrimental. Lyn stopped in her tracks, searching, scanning the area keenly, only trees and shrub were in view. Something was wrong for another thing came to mind, it had gone eerily silent; no birdsong or chirping of insects. She started at a twig snapping behind her.

"Look here Howell, it seems we caught us a swan." The voice was British and deep with a sharp edge. Lyn turned to see a rather large bulky man with dark scar riddled skin step out from behind a tree. On account of the poor state and quality of the creased and bedraggled clothing, it was fairly noticeable he was of low rank which led the young witch to conclude she was in the right era. A sinister grin pulled at his lips. "Such a lovely swan, wouldn't you say Howell?"

His response was a loud arrogant laugh with a voice to match. Lyn turned to her right. This man was smaller in size and height, lanky with shadiness to him. His leer and grin was something wicked as he stepped close, "Aye Aballach, a pretty swan indeed." He gave a dark chuckle, eyes shining with callous.

Dangerous vibes reverberated from both of the men, promising misery and pain. It was almost, for a moment, as if she were home, dealing with two delinquents with only ill willed intentions. These men aimed to hurt her. She could feel the malice in the hearts.

Lyn took several cautious steps back. "I'm in a bit of a hurry" she spoke. "So if you'd just get out of my way, that'd be great." The two men shared a confused look at the peculiar expression, staring in silence. "Right," Lyn started, "Forgot I was in the past. You people wouldn't know what I'm saying. I should definitely learn how to speak in your dialect if I want to pass for being one of you." She paused as she carefully chose her words. "Allow me to rephrase, I'm in quite the rush-"

She gasped as the bony fingers of the thin man, whom she guessed was named Howell, clasped around her throat forcing her back up against a tree. He stared her down, green orbs filling with lust. He inhaled, taking in her distant floral fragrance. Lyn tensed underneath his grip.

Howell chuckled. "Tell me swan, what is a beautiful creature such as yourself doing out here all alone? There's danger afoot, lurking in every corner." His grip tightened. Lyn tightened her neck, refusing to bend to his will even if things were beginning to run downhill quick. If the situation wasn't turned around soon things would surely take a turn for the worse. And so Lyn did the next best thing she could think, she laughed confusing the two even more.

Her lips pulled into a smile, almost a leer. "You've no idea what I am capable of. Allow me to show you." Giving a small grunt, she brought her boot into Howell's groin forcefully, bringing him down on his knees in a pain filled groan. A straight powerful punch had him on his back.

Behind her, the bulky man, Aballach, reached for the ax strapped to his back. The woman, the wench, proved to be more powerful and strong than expected. It seems she'd have to be eradicated sooner than anticipated.

Vociferating, Aballach raised the weapon high and attacked; running and swinging with mighty force. Lyn ducked with impeccable timing, avoiding the strike of the sharp blade. She moved to stand in a flawless fight stance, hands ready at her sides and form perfect. She repelled the glare Aballach sent and with a grunt he swung again.

Lyn ducked, moving swiftly. He swung once more striking only air as she slipped by him. Aballach growled in anger, condemning her for being slick. He missed once more and gave a frustrated cry, swinging wildly in all directions.

On the floor, Howell writhed, the pain in his most sensitive area still firing. Eyes closed, he listened to Aballach's grunts and cries of rage. Had the doxy not fallen under his wrath just yet? To confirm, he opened his eyes and allowed himself a glance of Aballach failing to land a single strike.

Pushing past the ache, Howell rolled himself onto his hands and knees, slowly pushing up to stand with a quiet groan as his mind processed a plan of stepping up behind the woman and apprehend her. With another groan he moved, stepping lightly, toward a fallen branch laying mere feet away. He took hold of it and soundlessly approached, deeming fortunate he had not yet been noticed.

As Aballach swung again, Lyn grabbed the hilt hindering the attack. She grunted as she struggled to keep her defensive stance against the large man. Her teeth grit for he was almost as strong as an ox. She cried out in sudden pain as a hard object struck heavily on her back, her strength diminishing resulting in her dropping down to a knee.

Howell out cried as he raised the branch up high to strike again, murder in his eyes. Instincts taking control, the witch's eyes flashed a bright gold. Both men soared back through the air by an invisible powerful force, each slamming against the nearest tree with a sickening crack; Howell lying dead with a broken spine.

Adapted with high resistance, Aballach brushed off the impact and stood. His eyes caught sight of his fallen partner, chest tightening at the loss. Enraged, he set his glare and charged, bellowing. Lyn rushed to her feet and swung a powerful sucker punch, slamming into his jaw. She struck a second time with another blow, adding a kick to the back of his leg as she slipped behind him. Like a sack of potatoes, Aballach went down.

Lyn panted, breathing heavily. All those years of studying self-defense seemed to have paid off more than foreseen. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, the witch stretched out her limbs. Her downed opponent moaned in hurt. Spotting the ax several feet away, Lyn traveled the distance and picked the weapon from off the ground. She approached the man and placed the weapon upon his neck, pressing it into his skin careful of drawing blood.

"Sorceress…" Aballach groaned, immense pain rummaging through him. "That should be the last of your worries" Lyn responded with a ragged breath. "Why?"

"The king shall have your head once he learns of your magic! You shall burn in hell witch!" Aballach retorted. Lyn seethed teeth grit, "Why?!" She pressed the blade in a tad more, issuing a yowl from the bandit. "It was all Howell!" He gave a whimper. "You appeared an easy target!"

Lyn scoffed, "Yeah well you were dead wrong." Her ears picked up a sudden sharp whistle. She turned and ducked as an arrow flew past, imbedding itself in a tree. Glancing around wildly, shapes and forms became visible behind the surrounding trees; an ambush. "Shit!" Lyn cursed as a number of armed men ran into view with a cry of way. Grunting angrily, she turned and ran.

The sound of chasing footsteps behind her was thundering, booming. Panting, Lyn ran as fast as she could muster, jumping over fallen logs and roots. The path before her had become a labyrinth; so many directions, which was the right way? She screamed as an arrow struck a tree inched from her head. In defense, she flicked her palm back, using her magic. Pained cries were her confirmation she had successfully taken a couple of her assailants down. How many left?

She took a quick left running through brush, crying out as the ground suddenly disappeared. A steep hill came into view. Lyn braced herself as she rolled down in a rough crude manner. Colliding with a great force caused her to groan out loud in agony. Had it not been for the years of training, she would never have gained a high resistance to such blows.

A second groan sounded. "Oh, what on earth was that, a boulder?" Rolling to his side, the unfortunate stranger glanced up, breath hitching and eyes widening at the sight of Lyn writhing on the ground just inches away.

How? How could it be her? Was this another vision perhaps? It didn't seem as if he were peering through the veil of magic as before, it certainly did not feel as so. She was here, in person. He could feel a strong sense of power and purpose emanating from her, something not felt before. And with it came a powerful, uncontrollable, biological pull toward her.

Forcing the pain down, Lyn sat up with a groan, rubbing her head. "I'm sorry, I-"she gave a gasp, one of relief, as her gaze landed on whom she had quite literally rolled into, "Merlin!" She moved to his side in a frantic crawl and pulled him into a tight hug, "Oh, I found you!"

Merlin was at a loss for words. What on earth was going on? Who was this woman? How was she here? A whistle sounded in sudden. "Oh crap" Lyn pulled back and stood, pulling her predecessor along. "Come on!" She pulled him into a run, taking off deeper into the forest just as the cavalry slid down the hill, chasing after them with shouts of aggravation. Merlin glanced back to the mob. "Uh… why is it we are being chased?"

"Well," Lyn replied in between pants. "To make a long story short," she jumped over a log, "Bandits!" That had been all Merlin needed to understand. The two skidded to a sudden stop as another small group set before them, swords unsheathed and hindering escape. "Great" Lyn breathed, glancing about to see them surrounded. Things had definitely turned for the worse.

To the right an armed bandit vociferated as he charged, sword raised high. Lyn threw the ax she had in hand with remarkable deadly precision. It was then the circle of men charged all at once. The young female's eyes flashed gold, time slowing. In quick action, she moved to her ancestor and swept his feet out from underneath him, hearing him grunt from the sudden impact of the ground.

With impeccable timing Lyn hopped up into the air, performing a flawless fan kick, knocking the advancing assailants back. Once on her feet she moved to a perfect cartwheel, over the warlock using his back for support, sticking the landing. She rushed forward and struck the nearest man with an open palm nose punch, moving on to a spinning side kick to strike another. A distinct shout caught her attention. She glanced back as a man charged her ancestor, "Merlin!" Her eyes flashed gold and soon after Merlin found himself sliding back as if pushed by a non-visible force. She then turned back.

The warlock watched as a swordsman rushed behind the woman whose attention was on another. Feeling he must protect her, he raised his palm, chanting in the ancient language as his magic flowed through him in vibration, his eyes shining gold. The swordsman was thrown back with a grunt.

Sending her opponent to the ground, Lyn turned at a shout to her left where two armed men came. Determined to finish off, she lunged forward into a somersault, retrieving an ax from the ground, throwing it and hitting target.

The remaining bandit charged with a growl of anger, swinging his sword. Lyn rolled again in a dodge, picking up a crossbow and firing off a single bolt; the thud of the body heavy. Feeling weak and drained, Lyn released a weary sigh and dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. Her body shook with adrenaline and exhaustion. It had all been so sudden, so sudden.

At the sound of footsteps, the witch glanced up, eyes meeting those of her predecessor. He held a hand out to her. "Are you alright?" Lyn nodded, taking his hand. Both warlock and witch gave a gasp from the sudden rush pulling them toward each other, linking them.

Merlin exhaled, retrieving his hand and breaking the connection. "What is going on? Who are you?" Lyn gave a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, I guess an explanation is in order." Where to begin? She took a quick breath. Speak proper, her mind mused.

"Well, I am a sorceress" she chuckled, "My name is Merlyn and-"

"Is this a jest?" Merlin interjected. Lyn shook her head, "No-"she cried out in sudden as a bolt pierced her leg. A second struck her shoulder as she moved to step in front of the warlock who caught her falling form.

"No!" Merlin cried in a panicked breath. He glanced up as several more bandits rushed in with war cried, led by Aballach. Acting quickly the sorcerer tightened his hold around the witch and raised a palm up, eyes glowing gold as he chanted in the ancient language sending all men soaring back in a scattered commotion. With them now still, he exhaled and lowered his hand.

"Nice" Lyn groaned voice pain filled. She gritted her teeth as Merlin led them away, settling under a shaded area beneath a set of trees. Another groan slipped past her lips as she was lowered down to the ground, prying herself up against a tree.

Merlin took a knee beside her and addressed her wounds, taking notice both arrowheads had pierced straight through her flesh. "By gods" he gasped. "That bad, huh" Lyn commented in an exhale. The warlock glanced up to her. "Merlyn, I-I'm… afraid the bolts have gone straight through…"

Lyn gave a humorless chuckle. "It's just my luck." She held her wounded shoulder, shaking her head slightly. "I've not been here an hour and already I'm bleeding out." Her hand fell. Could magic fix it? With her weak, her magic would surely fail. She looked to her ancestor, taking in his worried expression. Perhaps his magic would work, and even so the wound must be free of blockage. With a deep sigh, she took hold of the shaft protruding from her shoulder and pulled.

Merlin gave a gasp in shock amidst her anguished cry at the feeling of the bolt sliding through her. On instinct the warlock placed his hand over the bleeding wound, applying pressure. "Fuck!" Lyn whimpered wincing as tears brimmed her eyes.

The foreign angry word left the young sorcerer stunned mere seconds for he shook it off and returned his attention to his blood coated hand. Chanting quickly, his eyes glowed. His hand lifted, the wound remained. A couple attempts more hadn't seem to make a difference.

Merlin gave a frustrated sigh. His magic was useless. Lyn groaned. "Your neckerchief, use it as a tourniquet." He glanced to her, eyes widening slightly in surprise; she seemed to be growing pale. Quickly, he took the cloth from his neck and wrapped it tightly around her shoulder to his best efforts. "I must get you to Gaius."

Lyn breathed out, "Who?" Taking a hold of her, Merlin carefully hoisted her up, "The court's physician. Sorry" he apologized as she groaned. He lifted her injured arm over his head laying it to rest about his neck. "He will know what to do." His other arm slicked around her waist.

**So, good no good? Leave feedback and let me know your thoughts, I'd love to read what you have to say. **


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